On April 20, 1997, I encountered my first experience with losing a loved one — my grandmother died. Her death was sudden and unexpected. The turmoil I felt was something I had only seen in others. Days turned into months and eventually, into years.

From that point on, I realized that another day is never promised. I always heard this, but then, the gravity had never truly set in.

Since then, I have graduated from high school and college, which my grandfather helped me to accomplish. In any instance, he was always at most just a phone call away to lend a needed ear.

On May 16, I again experienced the loss of someone close to me — this time, my grandfather. But this time around, I was as prepared as one can be. He had been ill for some time. I had the blessing of spending time with him the evening before he went to be with the Lord.

What I learned with my grandmother’s death has helped me deal with my grandfather’s passing. I learned to cherish the memories.

I grew up on a 700-acre farm between Snowball and Silver Hill in Searcy County. My grandparents practically raised me, hence, the closer-than-usual relationship I had with them. Every day, I would check the cattle with my grandfather. We raised Charolais and Angus.

During the summer months, I would help with the haying. At first, it seemed really easy. I was nine years old and all I would have to do is sit in the air-conditioned house and take water and lunch to the fields. Growing up in the rural south had benefits — I learned to drive at an early age.

By the age of 12, I was raking hay and at 13, I was cutting. Between the two, I preferred the raking. When it came to repairs, I was able to change the teeth on the rake and the blades on the cutter.

On the farm, I would also bottle-feed calves. I would get up before daylight and mix the powdered-milk. We would buy Holstein calves for this and sell them when they were 500 pounds. Grandpa would let me keep the money in my own savings account.

What my grandfather was doing was teaching me about responsibility. I learned that hard work creates good luck. If I put out the effort and maintained a level of proficiency in any endeavor, I reaped the benefits.

It was not always work and no play. During the fall and winter months, I played basketball for St. Joe. My grandparents were at every basketball game to show their support for me. There was no place too far to travel to see “their boy” play.

According to my grandfather, I was the boy he never had. He had three daughters, yet he always wanted a son. Grandpa always said the only difference in me and his own children was that he had nothing to do with me being born.

Grandpa may have not had anything to do with me being born, but he did have a profound impact on me and has been the most influential person in my life. I have always looked up to him. I never wanted to disappoint him.